Unexpected Petrelli Naughty Activities Encounter
by Boisterous Hal
Summary: Nathan approaches his estranged brother. First, there is suspicion, then anger, tears are shed and then love blossoms. Petrellicest. My first Heroes FF not based on a musical.
1. Oh Brother

Summary: Nathan approaches his estranged brother. First, there is suspicion, then anger, pillows are thrown and then love blossoms. My first Heroes FF not based on a musical. LOL.

A/N: I had always been "iffy" about Petrellicest. However, having just watched the first two episodes of Volume Four, I took it as a personal affront that there is a near complete absense of brotherly love between my two favourite TV brothers. So this my way of "fighting back". :-p

Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes, since Tim Kring is that man. I got the idea of Peter's nicknames for Nathan from "Mesmerized", written by Gayle Lynds and first published in 2001 by HarperCollins. In that novel, the protagonist was described as being the "Queen of the Cosmos. Star of the Universe. Killing machine with compassion." I thought this suited Nathan as well (with "Queen" changed to "King" since Nathan is a man. He's a corrupted man, but still a man.) "Mesmerized" is recommended reading from yours truly, though the storyline has nothing to do with this FF otherwise. Anyway, I'll shut up and get on with it.

**Unexpected Petrelli Naughty Activities Encounter**

**Chapter One: Oh Brother**

_Nathan_

_You know what really gets me down? People who have problems accepting authority, particularly my authority. No, I'm not talking about my little brother Peter, though he could potentially become a threat I would have to neutralise. I was talking about Danko, the leader of my special forces team. He had questioned my every move, circumventing my authority. It was unacceptable. He would have to be dealt with. I had put bigger men than him in their places before, so I knew what I was doing._

The ringtone of my cell phone interrupted my thoughts, the polyphonic crooning of Freddie Mercury singing "Don't Stop Me Now" drowning out the silence in my office. I smiled. Nothing could stop me now. Nothing could stop the meteoric rise of Nathan Petrelli, future saviour of the universe. (A small part of me was angry that the author of this story didn't change my ringtone from his first Heroes FF story. I can't complain though, I could have ended up with "The Phantom Of The Opera" theme as my ringtone. I mean, seriously, me playing the Phantom? What was that guy thinking?)

I read the screen to for the called ID and hit the "answer" key. "Yeah?"

"Senator, I have located Oregano-Pepperoni-Supreme."

I sat upright in my chair. "Where?"

"Dalesford Hotel."

"He's in _Washington D.C.? _Are you positive on this?"

"As positive as I can be, sir. I'm looking at him right now."

Dalesford Hotel was only twenty minutes away, though the lunch hour was coming up and the traffic might slow me down.

"I'm on my way. I'll be there in a half hour, tops. I'm coming alone. Keep me updated if anything develops."

"Roger that, sir."

"Thank you, Jeremy. Keep up the good work."

I hung up. Peter was a delicate matter whom I needed to handle alone. There was no need to have Danko and his squad terrorizing the neighbourhood just to grab people with abilities. I'd deal with Danko later. He would be kept out of the loop for now, especially when it came to my family. He couldn't be trusted. I grabbed my car keys and headed out to the underground parking lot.

**********

_Peter_

I couldn't wait to bust into Nathan's office to confront him. I almost salivated at the mere thought of it. Nathan Petrelli, King of the Cosmos, Star of the Universe, killing machine with compassion, would know the consquences of crossing his brother. I had entered Washington D.C. undetected, or so I had thought at the time. Of all places, he would never think to look for me on his home territory.

I came up with these nicknames for him back when he was a hotshot criminal lawyer. I once witnessed his brilliance when I was part of the courtroom audience for one high profile case. He was the prosecution lawyer in the case of D.L. Hawkins, a murderer whose crime was so shocking I can't repeat it here. Nathan had the six men and six women of the jury eating out of the palm of his hand by the time he was through with destroying Hawkins' lawyer (and his career in the process). When the guilty verdict was read out, my brother turned to the press gallery, his trademark grin seeming to be permanently etched on his face. My brother looked every bit the self-assured high society professional that he was, and the media appeared to be all too willing to inflate his ever expanding ego. "Petrelli maintains 95% win ratio!" "Star lawyer shoots, he score again!" ranted the headlines. It was like he had modelled himself on Billy Flynn, the criminal lawyer from the musical "Chicago" who never lost a case while having the media on a string. "Show them you're a star kiddo, and you'll always be a winner," he once said to me.

I loved him with all my heart. I wasn't academically minded like him, and I knew I would never have his charisma. I just accepted that I would always live in his shadow. I wasn't jealous, even though the previous paragraph might suggest so. I was in awe of how brilliant he was at his work, in fact anything he set his mind to. I was proud of him, more than I can possibly say. He loved me and I loved him, and that's all that mattered to me. I said to him after the case, "Nate, you were amazing today. You are a star in my eyes. King of the Cosmos, Star of the Universe, killing machine with compassion."

"Thank you, Pete. It means a lot to hear you say that. Did you come up with those nicknames?"

"Yep, all by myself, and just for you. Do you like them?"

"I love them. They are going on my letterhead." He grinned and hugged me tightly. After we pulled apart, he said, "I love you Pete. I want you to know that even though I enjoy my job, that I love you a million times more. You can trust me on that, because I'm a lawyer."

I laughed and hugged him again. "I love you too, Nathan. I will love you forever." Then we went out to celebrate, with me secretly smiling inwardly because I had not created those nicknames. I had stolen them from a novel, and it wouldn't hurt Nathan for him to never know. We are all entitled to our own little white lies.

Now that my power-mad former-lawyer now-politician brother had gone too far by detaining people with abilities, I had convinced myself that love was not an emotion that Nathan was used to any more. The only love he might feel was towards the 80 foot stone monument in the shape of himself standing next to the White House. He had cast me, his own flesh and blood, aside in his quest for power. I valued his life more than my own life, and what did I get in return? I was afraid that my love was turning to hate. I was even more afraid that I didn't care if my love had turned to hate. All there was left were thoughts of revenge. Nathan still loved the media and I couldn't wait to read the headline saying "Nathan Petrelli gets wedgied, brother wanted for questioning". Yes, revenge was a dish best served cold.

However, revenge found itself waiting right now as the only dishes in front of me were the dishes comprising the delicious buffet in one of the Dalesford Hotel's five restaurants. The problem in the forefront of my mind was was whether to begin lunch with the soup or salad.

I was busy contemplating this when I glanced up and saw Nathan standing barely six feet away from me. I was so surprised to see him that it took all of my composure not to drop my plate on my toes. I quickly returned my clean plate to the stack of plates at the head of the queue, my appetite suddenly having migrated to Canada en route to Greenland.

"Nathan...how did you find me?"

"Didn't you know? I always know where to find you," he said with feigned surprise.

I looked around nervously, expecting a SWAT team, or whatever they were called to storm the room and take me down.

"I came alone, Pete. There's nothing to be afraid off."

"I have everything to be afraid off. You made us afraid, Nathan," the anger rose in my voice. I didn't need to tell him that by "us", I meant people with abilities.

"I didn't come to argue," he said, stepping closer to me. "I just want to talk to you." He put his hands on my shoulders.

I considered beating the living daylights out of him at that moment, just for his audacity, for all the pain that he had caused me and my friends, pretending that everything could be fine between us after we had talked. You see, I had learnt that when Nathan said to me "I just want to talk to you" it was code for "I just want to lecture you until your brains have turned to scrambled eggs, because I am a valedictorian, top-of-his-class, former hot-shot criminal lawyer promoted to District Attorney turned superstar Congressman. Yes, I AM BETTER AND BIGGER THAN YOU SO YOU WILL SEE EVERYTHING MY WAY." But I digress. My common sense won out, having decided that starting a mělée in a restaurant with my brother was poor etiquette.

"Okay, then talk."

"In private."

I looked at him. I could tell he was serious.

"Fine, I've booked a room on the 13th floor so we can talk there. If this some kind of trick though, you are as good as dead."

"There's no need for threats. This is no trick, Peter," he replied as he guided me to the elevator. "I'm a politician, so you know you can trust me."

Despite myself, I had to chuckle. No matter how delusional either of us had become, I could always rely on my brother's twisted sense of humor.

**To be continued...**


	2. Unextraordinary

**Chapter Two: Unextraordinary**

_Nathan_

You won't believe me, but here goes. When I was in my early teenage years, I wanted to become an athlete. My mind was sharp and I was a straight A student, yet I knew that keeping my body healthy was important to overall wellbeing. So I join the track and field team starting in my freshman year, and stayed on for the following two years. I trained very hard because I knew I was not the tallest nor the strongest boy on the track. It was difficult to balance this on top of my studies, but being Nathan Petrelli I always found a way. I would run so fast that I would imagine my feet lifting off the ground. Irony, ladies and gentlemen, works in mysterious ways. In case you are wondering, I won 14 races and on one occasion placed second in my favourite event, the 400 metres.

I enjoyed track and field so much, so much so that I thought I could make a career out of it. I thought my parents would support me, but the actual result could not be further from the truth. When I told my father this, I received a long lecture on how the Petrelli family had a long and proud history of being accountants, lawyers, investment bankers, medical researchers and academics. "We do not have _athletes_ in the family, Nathan, because it is simply not done," he had admonished, his tone suggesting "athletes" to be a profession that inspired ridicule. "The career of a Petrelli, son, is to use his or her superior mind. We are a noble, upper class family, so we must choose professions which suit our standing. So we will have no more talk about you becoming a runner. Do I make myself clear?" I always looked up to my father, thinking he knew best. My mother nodded her tacit agreement with him. Being a Petrelli meant complete obedience to your elders since gaining the benefit of an older Petrelli's experiences was seen to be paramount. I quickly acknowledged my parents, quit track and field and concentrated on my studies. That matter was closed. I went on to attend law school and worked my way up through the ranks of the legal profession, like my father before me .

Yes, being a Petrelli meant that you were destined to become a drone in the democratic system, living the great American dream of the elite. Which was why we didn't know what hit us when Peter arrived. Peter was (and still is) so radically different to every other member of my snobbish family, yet I have always loved him for it. Selfless, understanding Peter. I recall an incident between us just over a decade ago. He was 15 years old and I was 28, with him being a dreamer at the back of the classroom, achieving lacklustre grades, and me being a senior civil lawyer. I had moved out of home by this time (having recently married my long time girlfriend Heidi Richardson) and was visiting him and my parents one Saturday. Having reached his critical age whereby he was ready to seriously choose his career, I casually asked him (ahead of similar questioning by my father) if he had decided what he wanted to do.

"Yes sir, I have," he said, looking at the floor.

"Don't look at the floor when you talk, Peter," I said sharply, having unconsciously brought home the advice I had given to one of my clients. "It makes you look suspicious, like you have something to hide. Also, my name is Nathan, not 'sir'." It was true that being 13 years his senior, and a lawyer no less, had made me seem like a figure of authority to him, but I was still his brother after all.

"Okay, Nathan," he replied, his mannerisms suggesting that he had just been chastised. I could never bear to see him like that.

"Aww, Peter," I said, getting onto one knee and putting both my hands on his shoulders so that my solid 5'10" frame was level with his slight 5'5" figure. "I'm not angry with you. You know me, I'm Italian, and I always want to get things perfect. Italian passion is in our blood. You can talk to me. I'm your big brother. So look at me and tell me what you want to be." I smiled, and he smiled back.

He took a deep breath. "I want to become a foreign aid worker."

I blinked, genuinely shocked. The conversation I had had with our father when I was Peter's age had jumped to the forefront of my mind, an alarm bell sounding in my head. "No you don't, Peter," I managed to blurt out.

"Yes, I do," he continued. "I saw a documentary on TV, where they showed people helping the poor in third world countries. I want to help people like that, Nathan." In an attempt to spare him from my father's inevitable lecture if he was to reveal this, I said "You have to snap out of this, Pete. You don't try hard enough at school. You dream too much. You cannot tell Pa that you want to be a foreign aid worker, or you'll cause him to have an apoplexy. Please, work harder at school and you can make it into law school or any respectable college. You can't earn decent money from foreign aid work, Pete. It's just not done."

"I don't care, Nathan," his tone was passively aggressive, "Life isn't always about money. In fact, the love of money causes more problems than it solves, as third world governments greedy for power hoard their riches and their people suffer from disease and starvation. These people need help Nathan, and I want to do everything I can to help them. I want to help save the world."

His passion was touching, but I knew that I had to dissuade him from this to spare him the wrath of Pa. "There's no point in helping people who can't help you in return, Pete. You might catch a disease from them, and then what's the point of that? You need to work in a profession that provides a steady source of income. You will have to make provision for the future. Our family is a noble..."

"I'm sick to death of hearing that drivel about our "noble" family, Nathan!" he exclaimed, pulling away from me. "That's all I ever hear, about how falling into line with whatever Pa wants is my only choice in life. I want to help people Nathan, diseased or not. I don't care about money, status or anything like that. You can become like our father if you want, but I just want to be me!"

With that outburst, he ran up the stairs and slammed the door to his bedroom. I sighed. I only wanted to help, not upset the kid. Unfortunately, even at 15 he was still prone to tantrums when he couldn't get his way. It was like he was stuck with a five year old's mentality. My Mom once commented that I hardly cried when I was baby, while Peter would bawl for hours. In a family that generally frowned upon such open displays of emotion, Peter stuck out like a sore thumb. He would have to snap out of it before he became self destructive.

I knocked on the locked door to his bedroom. "Peter, come out and talk to me. I'm sorry for what I said. Peter!" There was no reply. I was really concerned, so I stayed outside his room for an hour, trying to convince him to talk to me. Finally, he opened the door and I could tell he had being crying. He ran into my arms and hugged me.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you Nathan..."

"Shh, it's okay." We pulled apart and I rested my hands on his shoulders again. "I'm sorry about what I said about diseased people. It was wrong of me to say that. Can you forgive me?"

"Yes."

"Good. I want you to know that I only want what is best for you, which is why I said the things I did. You care so much about other people, and that's why I love you so much. You would be perfect doing foreign aid, and I'll support you in whatever you decide to do."

He looked up at me. "You really mean that?"

I nodded. He hugged me again. "I love you, Nathan."

I felt a tear rolling down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away. "I love you more than I can possibly say, Pete."

I was lying when I said I would support Peter in his chosen profession. I was actually disappointed because I felt that Peter achieved results well below what he was capable of, that he was throwing his life away chasing dreams by helping people who couldn't help themselves. My father was even more disappointed, more or less disowning him after finding out what he aspired to be. My Mom never forgave Pa for this, and she chastised me for trying to get him to be someone who he wasn't. I reminded her that she fell into line with my father's demands when I had aspired to be an athlete to which she replied "Peter is very special, Nathan. He is my favorite son, and he will become the strongest of my two sons doing whatever he chooses. Yes, he's a Petrelli who does not act like one, yet his destiny is to be great." I wanted to begin on a retort, but before I could do this she glared at me and stalked away. I was stung by her response naturally, and dismissed her unkind words and disposition down to her finally losing her marbles.

It's the story of my life. I always have had good intentions, yet I would often be unfairly blamed when someone's feelings got hurt. Why couldn't the old bat see that I had only tried to encourage Peter to become ambitious because it what was best for him?

So Peter persisted with being himself, becoming a foreign aid worker, hospise nurse, and paramedic among other professions. Peter chose to be unextraordinary, and I did not stand in the way. Let him be unextraordinary if he wants to! I had my own life to tend to. I still loved Peter, and I always did because he is my brother and not even my own disappointment could come between us.

In the present, I looked at Peter out of the corner of my eye as we waited for the elevator. He still possessed boyish dreams of saving the world, yet his face had hardened through a lifetime of hardships that he had sucessfully overcome. How could I have known that that unextraordinary boy from 12 years ago would grow up to become one of the most extraordinary men to have walked on planet Earth?

**To be continued...**

A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading Chapter Two. I love seeing the boys in happier times, in a "happier times in the Petrelli family" sort of way, if you know what I mean. To all the mothers out there, I hope you had a Happy Mother's Day. Aww...


	3. Shocked To My Very Foundations

**Chapter Three: Shocked To My Very Foundations**

_Peter_

The elevator doors opened. Nathan and I entered and I hit the '13' button. A couple in their early twenties got in entered with us, obviously smitten with each other and oblivious to our presence. As they kissed and giggled silently, I had to look away. Love was an emotion that had seemed to abandon my heart recently, as I was preoccupied fighting the very man standing next to me now, the man whom I had been through so much with. I glared at him. This was all his fault, and I was going to remind him of it. To his credit, he ignored my glare, focusing on the electronic screen displaying the floor level. The couple exited at the third floor. An uncomfortable silence settled between my brother and I, broken only by the elevator music currently playing an instrumental version "Moon River". Nathan still looked and stood like the greedy authoritative figure that he had become, yet it was still so difficult to know what the man was thinking.

We stepped out at my floor. I briskly walked towards room 13-12, Nathan easily keeping pace with me. Even a simple walk from an elevator to a hotel room revealed his competitive streak - he made sure he would not be left behind. Stopping in front of the door, I looked around suspiciously, despite Nathan's assertion that he was here alone. Nathan and I were alone in the corridor and nothing looked out of the ordinary, so I fished the room's key out of my pocket and unlocked the door. Perhaps my brother was telling the truth, but I would keep my guard up. I let him into the room and locked the door behind us. Now I was a captive audience for him, just like he was a captive audience for me.

I had chosen a room that was pleasingly aesthetic, spacious with a king sized bed, en suite and a balcony facing North. Nathan walked outside to the balcony and admired the view over the Potomac River and the Thomas Jefferson Memorial. Playing the role of a good host, I offered him a drink. He accepted a mineral water, and I poured one for myself. This was not an appropriate moment for champagne, and both of us knew it. We were being civil, but the tension in the air could be cut with a knife. It felt like the calm before the storm.

"This view is beautiful, Pete," he said when I had joined him on the balcony. "You sure know how to choose a good hotel room, I'll give you that." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Where did you find the money to pay for a room in a five star hotel?"

"Is this what is all about? You came here to audit me? Am I being put on the stand?" I smiled sardonically. "No, there's definitely more to it. I'll indulge you though. All I'll say is that a friend of mine, a techo-whizz-kid called "Rebel" gave me the cash. I wanted to lay low like the fugitive you forced me to become, but I got bored. I have decided to become selfish, and treat myself to a lap of luxury. I learnt from the best, Nathan." I glared at him again. There wasn't any need to say that was a jab between his ribs.

"You're angry," he said evenly. "What I'm doing, detaining people with abilities, is for the good of this nation. It's for the good of this world. You shouldn't take it so personally, Pete."

"It felt pretty personal when you disowned me for two months, and had me tasered in the back and put on that plane."

"I apologize for disowning you the way I did. As I said, I got a little emotional after you refused to tow the line. As for putting you on the plane, I'm sorry it happened but it wouldn't have if you had just gone along−"

"Gone along with what? Your plans to lock all of us up like common criminals? Honestly, Nathan. I thought I knew what you were capable of, of who you really were. That was why I was shocked, shocked to my very foundations when I found out what your grand scheme was! You are one of us, and if you keep going with this insane plan to save the world, then I'm going to be there every step of the way to stop you."

Nathan nodded slowly, and inhaled deeply as he turned his head to look out over the balcony. A part of my subconscious told me to smash a glass over his head, push his unconscious body over the edge, then to fly away. I suppressed the horror from my face, swiftly perishing the thought. What I didn't need right now was more violent thoughts directed towards my brother. _I'm a paramedic. I'm not a killer._

"I'm sorry to hear that. You should know that the last thing that I want is for anyone to get hurt. Especially you, but I won't be able to protect you from my men if you continue to oppose me. I still care about you, Pete. I don't know what I'd do if I were to lose you."

"That's very touching," I replied sarcastically. "No really, I'm glad you got that out of your system. So what's your next move? I refuse again to fall into line with my villainous brother, then I get detained and put on a plane again? How many times do we have go around in circles?"

"This is not a trick as I said before. I'm here on my own. As for my next move, I'm not at liberty to discuss that."

"Right, top secret stuff. I understand. Why don't you take yourself and your secrets back to the Oval Office or wherever the hell you work nowadays. Go and save the world, Captain America. It was good of you to drop by, Nathan Petrelli, King of the Cosmos, Star of the Universe, killing machine with compassion. I'll send you a postcard before I leave Washington."

Nathan winced slightly as he remembered my nicknames from years ago for him, before returning his face to neutral. "It was good to see you again, Pete. Take care of yourself. I was hoping you might be reasonable about this, that we could work this out, but I should have known better. You always were emotional. If you change your mind and wanna talk, you know how to contact me." He inclined his head and walked back into my room to exit out to the corridor.

I looked at his retreating back, feeling some guilt at the way I had spoken to him. Another part of me was high-fiving itself, that he had deserved the cold shoulder. The guilt was winning out. It was always this way in my feelings towards Nathan. I could never stay mad at him for long. It's hard to explain, but also I felt that something he hadn't mentioned was bothering him, and that our conversation was far from over.

**To be continued...**

A/N: Apologies if you expected a longer chapter. I had intended for this chapter to be longer, but I wanted to release what I had written so far (I had been busy over the past fortnight) so that you and I wouldn't lose interest in the story.


	4. Impossible Decisions

**Chapter Four: Impossible Decisions**

_Nathan_

_It was a mistake to come here._ I knew I wouldn't be able to convince Peter to stop opposing my plans, so why had I left my office in the first place? I wanted to see my brother again, to make sure he was okay. That was the reason (or part of the reason) I would use to reassure myself.

As I walked through Pete's room to commence my exit of the Dalesford, I allowed myself a moment of reverie. I remembered a conversation that my mother and I had the day before the election that made me a Congressman in a landslide victory. We were talking about my future, in which an indescribable explosion would kill millions of New York residents, commencing the motions that would propel me to worldwide prominence. _(1)_

_"_Linderman called me. He said you're getting cold feet. It's natural to feel ambivalent. Nobody expects you to feel otherwise, so I wanted to give you perspective."

"You know about Linderman plans?"

"Yes. Well they're not just Linderman's. A lot of people put time and care into making this a reality, myself included."

"You?"

"Yes. You don't know everything about me, Nathan. But I do know everything about you, and I know what you're capable of."

"You think I'm a mass murderer?"

"Important men make impossible decisions. President Truman dropped two atomic bombs on Japan to end World War II. Killed thousands to save millions."

"That was different. We were at war. I can't accept this."

"That is your one weakness, Nathan. You have no faith. So how could you possibly believe this bomb could actually heal the world if you have no idea in the faith of destiny? Your destiny Nathan is to set the course of history after this unspeakable act has occurred, and people will look back on what you do as the freshman Congressman from New York, and they will thank you. For your strength, for your conviction, and for your faith. In my day, we called it being presidential. Can you believe? Can you be the one we need?"

Snapping back to the present, I shook my head. She was wrong. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I had known that millions of fellow New Yorkers had given their lives so that I could become President. I had found faith, because I believed that the unprecedented measure I was taking would change the world for the better. The beauty was, no one had to die for this to work. That's what I thought before Matt Parkman had to go and screw things up, by mind controlling one of my field squads and forcing them to turn on each other. Then there was blood thirsty Danko. I almost grinded my teeth at the thought of his name.

I started to unlock the chain to the door.

"Nathan, wait."

I turned around and found that Peter had followed me.

"I'm sorry for talking to you that way. You didn't deserve that," he said.

"I forgive you."

"I just want to understand why you really are rounding us up. You could at least give me something. I just don't want to fight you any more. I'm tired of it. Perhaps against my better judgement." He smiled wryly, and it was only then that I realized that he had taken my right hand and was gently massaging it. Having physical contact was something that we had both enjoyed for as long as I could remember. As if he had just realised what he was doing, he let go and looked at the carpet, feeling embarrassed even though he had no reason to be.

I looked at him thoughtfully. My head was telling me to just forget him and get back to work at the office, but my heart told me to continue this conversation. Maybe now was the time to follow my heart instead of my head.

"Okay. You still won't be convinced but I at least owe you an explanation. I know you all see me a bad guy, but I am going ahead with these plans because I have only good intentions. You know what people like Sylar can do. He gets stronger with every life he takes, every ability he steals. Detaining people with abilities is in fact a form of protection against him, and people like him. I almost witnessed my own brother explode, which would have leveled New York City. I can't let that happen again, Pete. These abilities only lead to disaster. That is why they need to be controlled."

Peter closed his eyes, as if remembering my selfless act of flying him into the night sky when he had gone nuclear. It felt like a lifetime ago, while simultaneously too recent for my comfort.

"I believe you are sincere about saving the world, Nathan, but you still don't persuade. I'm still not convinced that this is the right way to go about it. Taking away people's civil liberties just isn't right. Besides, you should know that special people like us are the only people who can stop Sylar. If you detain them, then all will be lost."

"If you believe that, then that's good for you. But I'm a public watchdog, Pete. I can't sit back and watch major cities get destroyed. The fact is that I can't be everywhere to fly people up whenever they feel like turning nuclear. Besides, it's not an experience that I want to go through again."

"How can you know for sure that detaining specials is going to prevent that? I, and a lot of other people are grateful to you for you almost giving up your life to save millions of others. That doesn't mean that an ability-caused explosion will happen again."

"In my experience, lightning always strikes at least twice."

"Don't you get it, Nathan? We are all connected by an invisible thread. Infinite in its possibilities yet flawed in its design. _(2) _ If you break too many threads, the whole structure will collapse. You, me, Claire, Matt, Hiro - all of us are meant to _work together_ to save the world. If you continue down this path, then you will cause the disaster you are trying to prevent."

"Forgive me, but that sounds like a fantasy. Like something from a fairy tale, or a comic book."

Peter threw his hands up. "You'll never see sense, because you are just a stubborn, power-mad politician!"

"...and you are a self righteous, pain-in-the-ass paramedic."

"War mongerer!"

"Radioactive emo-haired freak!"

"Stud muffin!"

"Pretty boy!"

We both looked away from each other, awkward silence filling the room as we reached a stalemate yet again. So this is what it came down to - childish name calling.

"Look," I said. "You see me as arrogant and selfish. I get that. I hope you know that deep down inside, I am scared out of my wits. It doesn't give me any pleasure to go ahead with this. It's a difficult time for me as well. Even now, people who I thought were on my side are turning against me. Things are getting out of hand. I thought i could handle it, but now I'm not so certain. That's why I'm here, Pete, to ask your help."

"Why on Earth would you think that I would help you? After all that you've done? Is this how it's going to be, you acting so high-and-mighty when you're in control, ridiculing me, only to come running back to me for help and forgiveness when things get too difficult?"

"Peter, please! I shouldn't have pushed you aside like I did. I'm sorry for being an idiot. I should have realised realised that you always had my back. I don't want to lose you as brother and a friend. Whatever you may believe, I still care about you. I always have. Maybe you're right about us being connected. If you help me, then I can help you. That's what I'm bringing to the table. You can hear me out if you want. If not, I'll leave. It's your choice."

Peter paced in front of me, then stopped to look meaningfully into my eyes.

"Okay, I'll hear you out. You know what my biggest weakness is, Nathan? It's that I'll always love you as my brother, even when I have an infinite number of reasons to hate you. It's stupid, really."

"It's not. I feel the same way. This thing you could help me with, it regards my head of operations. He's looking for ways to provoke specials into killing his own men. That would give him a good enough reason to declare open season. Just yesterday, I watched Tracy Strauss freeze one of my own staff. Danko broke her chains and unlocked her cell door deliberately. All of that happened behind my back. I can't accept that."

Peter was looking at me, an eyebrow slightly raised. "Danko...that name sounds somehow familiar."

I took a photograph of Danko out my suit jacket's pocket and handed it to Peter. Peter looked at it, and his eyes widened in horror as he seemingly recognised Danko. He then glared at me. Before I could react, he grabbed the front of my shirt and slammed me against the wall with surprising strength.

**To be continued...**

_(1)_ The conversation between Angela and Nathan Petrelli was taken directly from Volume One, Chapter 21 "The Hard Part" (S1, E21).

_(2)_ Concept borrowed from the outro to Volume Four, Chapter 12 "An Invisible Thread" (S3, E25).


	5. Naughty Activities

A/N: We are almost at the end of the story. It's sad I know, but I enjoyed writing this chapter. Please be warned that this chapter contains human rights atrocities and strong violence that might be disturbing. To balance it out, there is the much anticipated "sexy time" in this chapter too.

I used a podcast of an interview with Milo and Adrian (who are the actors behind Peter and Nathan, respectively) from 27 April 2009, as the inspiration for some of this chapter. It's not essential to listen to it, but it's recommended. To play or download it, Google "Blog Talk Radio", click the first result and then search "Milo Ventimiglia".

**Chapter Five: Naughty Activities**

_Peter_

The name "Danko" sounded oddly familiar, but it took on great significance once I saw the photo that Nathan gave me. Danko had aged slightly, and the cold eyes and balding head left me in no doubt as to who he was.

This all began ten years ago, when I was 17 years old and doing foreign aid work in Angola. Angola's corrupt military government had hoarded wealth, leaving much of the population in poverty. Anyone who spoke out against the government would be shot or would "disappear", presumably having been taken away to be tortured and eventually killed. The briefing given to me before leaving the United States was not to antagonize the government, and just to hand out food packages and medical supplies to the needy. I valued my life so I did what I was told.

On one of my days off work, I happened upon a village where armed militia were pointing guns at villagers. All of these villagers were men, and they were all kneeling with their hands behind their heads. I crouched behind some tall bushes. All but one of the militia were Africans, and to my surprise the exception was a white man. I had a good look at his face. His cold, cruel eyes and pale complexion were his most apparent features. I overheard one of the other militia calling him "Blanko" or "Danko". Was he a mercenary? Before I could ponder this further, the men with guns had given the dissidents a bullet each in the head. It was all I could do not to scream. I quietly ran off (I don't know how I did it), hot angry tears flowing down my face as I blamed myself for doing nothing except run like a coward.

After I had calmed down, I realized that I had been powerless to do anything, which made me even angrier and upset. I flew back to the U.S. the next day and never worked in foreign aid again. The memories of that terrible day, and of the ghostly face of that mercenary haunted me for a long time. I continued to work in health services, though not in anything that would leave me traumatized.

Now Danko was back. In the present, I had Nathan pinned against the wall. Of all things, my own brother had not only stabbed me in the back but he was working with that monster as well.

"Pete, what are you doing?!"

"How could you?!" I shouted. "I was beginning to trust you again, and now I find out that you are working with this murderer!"  
"What? Murderer?" Nathan looked confused.

"That's right. Are you a murderer too, Nathan?"

"No! Why are are you calling him a murderer? What did he do?"

I told him the story. Nathan was naturally shocked, before his natural skeptism kicked in.

"Do you have evidence?"

"Luckily, I had enough wits to take photos. The evidence is stored away in New York. But right now, can you see it in my eyes that I'm telling you the truth?"

"Yes, I believe you. It's not so hard for me to believe any more, not after seeing what he's capable of. I had no idea that he was in Africa doing that. You have to believe me, Peter." He was trembling.

"Promise me that you had no idea." I growled, literally breathing down his neck.

"I promise you, I would never knowingly work with a murderer. I swear on my life. Please..."

I released him, and paced the room as I felt my veins wanting to pop out of my neck. I looked at Nathan. He was sitting on the carpet, shaking uncontrollably as he cried into his hands. He looked up at me, desperation in his bloodshot eyes.

"Why didn't I see this sooner? That stunt he pulled with Tracy, it was all part of his plans not just to use excessive force against the targets. It was so he could have them _killed_. What have I done? This is all my fault!" By this point he was wailing.

Either Nathan was an extremely good actor or he really didn't know the truth about Danko. I believed the latter. I couldn't bear to see him like this. I had always looked to him for support, and now he needed me for support. I calmed down, got onto my knees and hugged him around his shoulders. "I'm here for you, Nathan. It's not your fault," I said gently. He went quiet and hugged me back. We stayed this way for several minutes, silence filling the room once again.

**********

Nathan looked at me. "Thank you. I needed that."

"Don't mention it," I said. "You're my brother. I'm sorry I grabbed you like that. We are not supposed to fight. We are supposed to be a family."

Nathan nodded, his expression serious as he looked at the carpet.

"You look like crap, Nathan. Go clean yourself up in the bathroom, and pull yourself together." I took him by the hands and pulled him to his feet, before guiding him towards the en suite.

"Hey, I'll take your jacket."

"Thanks."

He gave me a slight smile before shutting the door.

I heard the sounds of the taps running, and I imagined him splashing water over his face and smoothing out his hair. I had a little bit of time to think about what had just transpired. I found myself pushing away thoughts about Danko and concentrating on my brother. I was shocked that Nathan, who was always so mentally strong and cold as ice when he had to be, would break down in front of me. It heartened me also because I felt at this moment like he was someone I could relate to, and that I was the only person he would dare show this kind of strong emotion to. This is what I wanted since he's my brother who I love.

I didn't want to go down the path of opposing him in the first place. We have always both been so stubborn in our beliefs though. In case you haven't caught on, stubborn runs in our family.

I was just thinking that I found Nathan's display of emotion strangely...what is the word?...alluring, when the door opened. Nathan stepped out, looking much better and a lot calmer.

Before I go on, I'll let you in on a secret. I always thought Nathan was the most attractive man on Earth. I mean, look at him:

His hot haircut.

His sad, beautiful brown eyes.

His cute ears.

His perfectly shaped nose and lips.

His broad shoulders.

His pretty muscles.

His long legs.

An Italian stallion.

I could go on, but I would be disgressing. The point is, the mixture of seeing Nathan in front of me with the knowing that he approached me in his hour of need made me love fall in love with him excessively, maybe foolishly. I finally confirmed to myself what I had been denying for a long time. I loved him more as more than just as a brother. It seemed at this moment that the world around us ceased to exist, as though there was only the two of us.

Without warning, I stepped into Nathan's personal space and pressed my lips against his as I closed my eyes. To my surprise, Nathan did not pull away. After about five seconds, we separated. Nathan eyes had widened slightly, with an eyebrow raised.

"What was that, Peter?" He asked softly.

"I love you," I replied simply.

"I love you too, man. You were right. We shouldn't be fighting, because we're family."

"I didn't mean it in that way. Well I kind of did, but what I want to say is...I'm sexually attracted to you." So there it was, unambiguous and finally out in the open.

"Oh." Nathan was taken aback, naturally. Now would come the part where he would get angry and storm out in disgust at his brother who had caused him so much embarassment for all of these years.

"This is wrong, Pete. I'm your brother-"

"Yes, I know! I'm sorry. Of all the inappropriate times I could have picked! I just wanted to be truthful." I turned away and look out over the balcony with eyes unseeing.

"You didn't let me finish," Nathan said, as he sneaked up from behind, wrapping his arms around me. "It's wrong, but I love you too. I love you in that way as well."

He spun me around and kissed me on the lips. It was a longer, deeper kiss than our first. Shock registered within me as I realised that he wouldn't get angry and that my feelings for him were reciprocated. I felt an ocean of energy spread through my body. I had never felt more alive in my life than at that moment.

We pulled apart reluctantly, and Nathan loosened his tie and tossed it into the opposite corner of the room. He unbuttoned the top button of his dress business shirt.

"Is it just me, or is it getting hot in here?" he asked teasingly.

"I think it's just me being pleased to see you," I growled.

I quickly unbuttoned all of the buttons on his shirt and soon it joined Nathan's tie in a corner of the room. I pushed the big slab of beefcake in the shape of Nathan Petrelli down into a chair. I rubbed my face down his chesticles, and sucked his nipples before running my lips over his six-pack in animalistic lust. He moaned with pleasure. I rubbed my hand over the fabric of his pants covering his semi-hard bulge, causing him to moan louder. He began unbuttoning my shirt.

"Peter?"

"Yeah?"

"That bed looks very, very inviting right now."

"Then what are we waiting for?"

Soon enough, all of our clothes were strewn in an untidy heap on the carpet as we rolled under the sheets, a tidal wave of passion consuming us as we made love to each other on a beautiful afternoon in Washington.

**********

_Half an hour later..._

We were both breathing hard, to the point where we were almost hyperventilating.

"That was unexpected. Pleasingly so," I said.

"Yeah. You know, every time I check into a hotel room, I almost always end up in bed with a cute blonde." He looked at me. "There are exceptions, sometimes."

I laughed. "Yeah, well, this time it was me who checked in."

"I apologise for that moment where we levitated two feet over the bed. That was unintentional. Perhaps letting out sexual tension caused me to lose control over my ability, I don't know."

"Don't mention it. That was actually quite fun." I turned to him, a serious question on my mind. "Is this something we will regret later on?"

"I don't think so. I just had the time of my life."

"Same."

"We both know that everything that went on in here has to stay in here. If Ma or Claire or anyone found out, then we're both screwed."

"Yeah, I know. No regrets." I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek before returning to my half of the bed.

The mood turned serious, as we both thought about bringing down Danko.

"Are you going to help me stop Danko?" Nathan asked.

"I will, but I want something in return."

"Let me guess. You want me to shut down the whole program, this business of locking special people up."

"That's all I ask."

"It will be almost impossible to reverse what I've already started."

"Don't play games. We both know you could easily shut this whole thing down. You're Nathan Petrelli. You can do anything you want."

"Yeah, you're right. You know me too well. Okay, you help me take down that bastard and I'll personally approach the President to shut down the program. Deal?"

"Deal." I shook Nathan's hand.

"We're stronger together," Nathan said, smiling. "Team Petrelli."

"Team Petrelli. I like it." I returned his smile.

"I don't about you, but I'm starving. How about we go for a bite?"

"Sounds like a great idea," I replied

"I'm paying."

"Well, of course you are. If you're going to waste taxpayers money rounding people up, you might as well waste some on our dates."

We both laughed. We showered together, got dressed and went downstairs. By the way, one of us went out while going commando. You have to guess which one.

**********

A/N: There you go! I have never written such a racy scene before. It was challenging but it was also fun. Please let me know if you liked this or not. What I would have given to be in Peter's position during "sexy time"...*I sigh as my mind slides into the gutter again.*

I have an epilogue planned, which will hopefully bring this story to a fitting conclusion. Thanks for reading. :-)


	6. Epilogue: Riding Off Into The Sunset

**Epilogue: Riding Off Into The Sunset**

_Nathan_

I never felt good to push my brother away when he came to me for help, but I had convinced myself that it was means to achieving a desired result. Peter was a distraction during my election campaign for Congress. I mean, the kid was utterly convinced he could fly. When I learned that he really could fly and channel a host of wonderful abilities, he became more amazing in my eyes than I could have ever imagined. I had irrational thoughts that he could be more than just a brother to me, and it took every ounce of my strength to contain that lust which threatened to consume me. So I pushed him away again and again, convincing myself that he was a barrier to my winning the election, and hating myself more and more as I did so.

I turned my back on my own kind, including people whom I should have considered family and friends. Even when Peter's animosity towards me had reached its peak, opposing him almost broke my heart. It was only my goal of saving the world that prevented this.

I thought that Danko was a good guy when I first brought him on board. His track record at "special operations" was excellent, and he was the perfect man for the job. Of course, I didn't know about him and Africa, otherwise this whole mess would never had happened. I had made the biggest stuff up in my life and it was up to me to fix it.

Peter was right, you know. We are all connected by an invisible thread. Whenever I felt that I could save the world singlehandedly, a small voice would say, "Hang on, what about Peter? He is a part of all this too." It's hard to explain. It was like an invisible force was drawing me towards him when I visited him at the Dalesford Hotel that day. Mind you, I never could have expected that we would end up in bed together. But you know, these things do happen. On that day, during that event which we later call our "Unexpected Petrelli Naughty Activities Encounter", we repaired the bond between us that we thought had been shattered forever.

Peter and I defeated Danko together. I didn't even need to see photographic evidence of Danko's crimes in Africa. I only had to look into my brother's eyes to know that he spoke the truth. Everything he says is true.

We also defeated Sylar together, using only a letter opener, a tin can lid, a toothbrush and our combined imaginations.

A couple of days later, I had a surprise for Pete.

I was spending a few days of annual leave in New York and went to visit Pete at his home. The difference was that I arrived in a different vehicle from my car. He was just leaving his apartment, when I showed up.

"Nathan!" he said, as he embraced me.

"Hey, Petey."

"Nice motorbike."

"I'd say. It's all yours."

"What?"

"I bought just for you."

"So you're bribing me now?"

"Pete's, that's not fair."

"I'm sorry. You're serious, and I have to go and ruin the moment. I can't accept this. What about the expense?"

"You don't need to worry about that. I'd buy you world peace if I could, but I remembered you telling me that you dreamed of owning two wheels."

"_Grazie, signore_. I love you." He hugged me again. Our parents discouraged us from speaking Italian, since it is a language of love and strong showings of emotion were frowned upon in our family (as I mentioned earlier). I can't understand my parent's reasoning either. My brother and I would speak in our ancestral language in private, during those rare moments when we did get along.

"I love you too. Go on, try out your machine."

"Only if you come too," he said, holding out my helmet to me. "Fancy going for a spin, big boy?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Where to?"

"I don't know. How does into the sunset sound?" I said, as I climbed into the pillion seat and put my arms around his midsection. I rested my chin on his shoulder.

"It sounds perfect. You're my star of the universe, Nathan. I hope you know that."

He accelerated, and we rode off into the sunset. After that, we spent many happy times together. Peter is my hero, just as he sees me as his. We both know tacitly that wherever there is a Peter, there is a Nathan and vice versa. In the end, that's all that matters to us.

THE END.

A/N: So there you have it. I know this was a bit longer than what an epilogue should be, but as young people say nowadays, "whatever!"

I prefer my image of the brothers riding off into the sunset at the every end, as opposed to what actually happened to one of them at the end of Season 3. Let me know if you feel the same way. Having said that, bring on Season 4!

Thank you for reading my story and for your comments. Have a safe Independence Day long weekend.


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